Page 64 of The Convict Gets His Girl

"Is Hunter here?" Jewel asked, her voice sounding thin and brittle even to her own ears.

Chase's lips curled slightly, a hint of sardonic humor. "Do you see his Jeep?" he drawled, gesturing with a subtle head tilt to the empty driveway. "No, he's not here."

The dry, cutting tone made her wince. His words were loaded—not just about Hunter's absence, but about everything unspoken between them.

Just then, the distant rumble of an engine cut through the silence. Hunter's familiar Jeep appeared on the horizon, and simultaneously, fat raindrops began splashing against the wooden porch steps. The first drops were heavy, almost aggressive, punctuating the tension.

A tension that she couldn't seem to move past. What should she say about their one night of passion weeks ago? Today wasn't about that. It was about the damn letter in her shaking hands.

Hunter parked, jogging up to the porch with that athletic grace that always characterized him. His eyes darted between Jewel and Chase, sensing the electrical charge of unresolved conflict.

"Let's go inside," he said quietly, holding the screen door open.

They moved into the kitchen as the rain began to pour, each taking a seat at the well-worn table, the letter sitting between them like an unexploded bomb.

Jewel's fingers traced the edge of the envelope. She'd been at the Williams' ranch more frequently since their mother's accident, but her visits had become a carefully choreographed dance of avoidance.

Chase. Always avoiding Chase. Maybe it was avoiding destiny. She snorted and shook her head. Destiny or Destini, who knew?

Since that night—that moment of weakness, of passion, of complete surrender—she'd been calculating her movements. A strategic retreat. Showing up when Hunter was around but knowing when Chase was riding Gladys into town or coming to the clinic.

She'd learned in the past few months of living back in Crimson Creek that proximity to Chase was a dangerous thing. Each time she saw him, memories bloomed like bruises, vivid and painful in the ache for more. The way Chase's hands had moved across her skin. The desperate, urgent way they'd come together. The mistake they could never take back.

Being with him felt too good, too natural, toorightto be anything but a mistake.

"So," Hunter said, his voice cutting through her spiraling thoughts. "Are we going to talk about this letter or just stare at it?"

Jewel blinked back into the moment, feeling alone despite the three of them being in this situation together, each of them sitting on a different side of the table.

Chase remained silent, his jaw set, eyes fixed on a point just beyond the letter. Waiting.

Jewel's left hand began to tremble—a telltale sign of the Lyme disease brewing beneath her skin. Stress always triggered it. And right now, stress was the only thing filling this kitchen.

Jewel bit her lip and then sighed, her stomach roiling with nerves as she reached for the envelope and ripped the edge before pulling out the letter.

Her eyes flew across the paper, and her jaw dropped open. Her fingers shook. She looked at Hunter with shock on her face, and he reached for the letter as she turned to stare at Chase.

Chase was Destini's father, not her ex-boyfriend Hunter. How did she feel about this? Shocked, secretly happy, but overwhelming dread to know that this was going to get out in town. What would her dad say? What would the kids at school say when they met Destini and found out her dad was a convict?

Worry and fear swarmed her as a gasp rang out in the room. "What? No!"

Jewel's head swung toward Hunter to see Ava standing, one hand on her walker and the other reaching over his shoulder to grab the letter. Ava's jaw dropped, and Jewel winced.

"What's the meaning of this?"

Jewel looked to the left at Chase with horror filling her, and Chase just sat, stoic with arms crossed, his face giving nothing away.

Hunter cleared his throat and sighed, turning in his seat. "That is a paternity test, Ma, to see who Destini's real dad is. I didn't finish reading it, but I'm guessing from these reactions that it's not me?"

"What?" Ava screeched, the paper shaking.

Jewel's face flushed as she twisted her hands. She looked at Ava quickly, then Hunter before going back to Chase. "I—I made a mistake that summer after I graduated."

Chase jerked at the words, snapping back in his seat and his eyes flashing. "A mistake?" His voice was deadly quiet. "The first time, maybe, but you can't keep denying me, Jewel."

She winced, her body heating at the memory of their night together weeks ago. She'd rationalized it as being a grief response. They'd both been reeling from the accident and Clio's death. But that excuse was getting old, even to her own mind.

"What?" Ava screeched again, wavering on her feet. Hunter jumped up, taking her by the elbow.

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